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she rents out to lodgers. All of them are a good deal larger than the one hired by the victims. Most have seven or eight people sharing, each person paying two shillings a week. This room, on account of its size, went for four shillings in total. The two victims shared it with another girl. Young and pretty, according to Miss Clamp. She didn’t know the girl’s name but had overheard rumours to the effect that she might be the dead woman’s cousin. Miss Clamp gave us a good description, though, and the men downstairs are looking for her as we speak.’
    ‘There was a girl who shared the room with them,’ Fox said, sounding aggrieved. ‘You say a cousin?’ He rubbed the ends of his moustache, as though deep in thought.
    ‘According to the landlady.’
    ‘And she’s downstairs, as we speak?’
    ‘Townsend and Goddard are looking for her downstairs, as we speak,’ Pyke corrected him.
    ‘Well, for heaven’s sake, let’s find her and talk to her, see what she knows.’ Fox seemed irritated, to the point of distraction.
    ‘I’ll talk to Townsend and Goddard once we’ve concluded our business here.’
    ‘Do that, man.’
    Dressed in a wool coat and plaited undershirt, with a waistcoat, cravat, pantaloons and boots, Fox looked and sounded more like a military general than a magistrate.
    Pyke remained silent.
    ‘And what about their names?’ Fox demanded, impatiently.
    ‘Stephen and Clare.’ Pyke waited for a moment. ‘I don’t know if they were married or not.’
    ‘Did you get a surname, dammit?’
    Pyke nodded. ‘His name’s Magennis. One “g” and two “n”s.’
    Fox took a moment to digest this news. ‘If I’m not mistaken, that’s an Irish name.’
    Vines, who came from an Anglo-Irish background, said, ‘Indeed it is.’
    ‘I know these things are, how should I put it, rather complicated, Vines, but do we know whether Magennis is a Protestant or Roman Catholic name?’
    Vines finally seemed to grasp the problem. ‘I believe it’s a name that can be associated with both traditions.’
    ‘I see.’
    Pyke waited for a moment. ‘Stephen Magennis kept an informal diary. I read what little I could understand. It seems the two of them arrived in London together during the middle of last year. From Ulster. They took the boat from Belfast to Liverpool and travelled to London by coach from there. The landlady informed me he worked at the docks, as do most of her lodgers. There was a brief mention in the diary of his father. It seems he’s part of the Orange Order.’
    Into the silence, Vines muttered, ‘God.’
    Fox nodded. ‘And news of the murders has already spread far beyond these walls.’
    ‘Just take a look outside,’ Pyke said, digging his hands into his pockets to keep warm. ‘The lynch mob is beginning to gather.’
    ‘Yes, quite,’ Fox said.
    ‘Right now there are forty or fifty people downstairs. Any or all of them might know of the identity of the victims. No doubt there are others in the neighbourhood who also know, or soon will. Very shortly, I have no doubt, the street below us will be swarming with journalists from The Times, the Chronicle, the Post, the Herald, the Advertiser, the Public Ledger - need I go on? They will be gleaning this information from whoever will talk to them, and tomorrow we will all be reading about how two honest, upstanding Protestants and their newborn baby were slaughtered in their beds by a papist assassin dispatched by Satan himself.’
    Fox stared at him, aghast. ‘Very imaginative, I’m sure, Pyke, but I don’t see how that helps us.’
    Pyke shrugged. ‘I’m just trying to outline the seriousness of the situation to everyone in the room.’
    ‘I think we’re aware of the seriousness, without your vulgar theatrics,’ Vines said, hotly.
    ‘Are you? Then how might news of these murders affect the mood of the Protestant mob I saw earlier today heading for Hyde Park and a showdown with O’Connell’s supporters?’
    Vines did not have an